


Sleigh-bells Ring

by Le_Noir (Psycho_Chiquita)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Christmas fic, Dad!Jim, Dad!Oswald, Family Bonding, Gen, Jim and Oswald try to be good parents, Keyword, M/M, Martin is Big Brother of the Year, Try, Winter, i just want jim and oswald to be loving gay dads to two kids growing up with distinct personalities, is that so much to ask for??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 14:12:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17367353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psycho_Chiquita/pseuds/Le_Noir
Summary: Oswald and Jim have a moment, if only brief, with their kids during a car ride home from school one winter evening.





	Sleigh-bells Ring

**Author's Note:**

> Someone once told me I have a weird ability to take plots and convert/twist ideas while still maintaining the original thought.
> 
> This was the "Snowflakes" and then the "Sleighbell" block.

If they thought things were high-strung before they picked the kids up from school, the drive home proves to be even more strained. The only sounds offered in the tense quiet are either Oswald’s gloves holding his cane in a squeaky choke-hold, or Barbara’s lone bell she keeps attached to her backpack ringing its delicate tune in the back seat with every bump the car goes over.  
  
Jim’s cough is the only warning he gives before making another attempt at clearing out the mess his son left behind.  
  
”So. Um. The-, how, how was school?”  
  
”Oh cut the crap, Jim,” Oswald bites with a shift in his seat, one arm gripping the back of his headrest as he turns to glare over his elbow. Until he sees the sullen stares both their children sport while staring out of their respective windows.  
  
With a softened gaze, he grabs their attention with his own tired sigh. “Martin, knowing you better than this I can undoubtedly state there is a perfectly good reason why you jumped into the altercation. Your father and I will take your explanation without question if you would just please be so kind as to tell us what,  _happened_.”  
  
The anxious working of his split lip is all Martin can muster while he fidgets with the notepad on his lap, his foot bouncing erratically with nervous agitation as he stares off into the snowy cityscape they drive by. He rolls his head off of his overgrown curls that provide him a soft barrier against the window, a distant look behind one of his already swelling eyes unfocused as he searches for a response to offer.

Head lifting from the fogged glass, he straightens himself out and looks up to his father with hesitation. He lets go of the notepad and brings his hands up in the air, balling them into fists and slowly crossing them over one another by the wrists.  
  
_Fight_

Oswald gives a patient nod. “That much we’re aware of. Fight who?”  
  
He holds his hand close to his chest to quickly sign an upside-down ok symbol before Barbara can look over.  
  
Oswald huffs out a laugh with a gentle shake of his head. “Darling, they all were. You’ll have to be more specific.”  
  
He’s still slow with his response as he lifts his hands once more to sign, his left palm facing forward as he centers his right index over it to drag it upwards in a line.

 _Tall_  

Oswald furrows his brow in confusion. If he recalls correctly, the taller of the group in the principal’s office looked the most shaken up, the other boys shuffled in the corner of the room trying to hold back the anger they so desperately wanted to act upon.

Oswald wasn’t sure what to expect when he got the call, during the middle of a meeting with a few of the mob families no less. He always thought he would be able to balance work and personal life, but things got a little too intermingled for his liking when his assistant walked in with the phone in hand and news that the school was on the line.

“What did he say?” Jim presses from the front seat, Oswald responding with a fluttering hand over his shoulder.  
  
Ignoring his husbands silent response, Jim speaks out over his shoulder. ”Sweetheart I know things haven’t been easy for the both of you, starting up school in the middle of the year, but when we suggested making a big impression on your classmates we expected something a little more, subtle.”

Oswald can’t help the head tilting eye roll even though Jim can’t see it from the driver’s seat. The short scoff, however, is completely intentional. “Yeah, subtle. Mister ‘Don’t be afraid to stand up for what’s right.’ “

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jim asks with a furrowed brow.

“I’m sure if you hadn’t implemented the idea of being so proactive with approaching trouble he wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Oh so _I’m_ the bad example?”

“Well I’ve certainly haven’t taught him anything that would get him in trouble.”  
  
”You mean get him _caught_.”  
  
”Poppa? Daddy?” Barbara calls from the back, her hands nervously working the bell as she looks up to them through her lashes with a frown. “It was my fault.”

Taken aback, Oswald quickly bats his eyes in confusion. “I’m sorry love, I must have misheard you.”

She takes a deep breath but doesn’t raise her head any higher. “They came over when I wouldn’t stop talking about the reindeer. About leaving the carrots. Said I was too old,” she responds through a grit, the scowl practically audible in her voice.

Oswald blinks as he processes her confession. “Forgive me poppet but that is utter bullcrap.”

She lets out a surprised giggle at the use of an endearing term alongside the expletive in the same sentence, but doesn’t say much more. Not feeling any comfort from the silence itself, Jim raises his eyes to meet his daughters reflection in the rear view.

There is no light in Barbara’s smile when she tries to reassure him nothing’s wrong. She sits at the edge of her seat looking so vulnerably small in her oversized winter coat, closed off in her own shell as her hand unconsciously grips around the bell in an effort to silence it’s melodic ringing. It eats away at Jim.

 

She isn’t the quiet type, at least not intentionally. After along day at work Jim doesn’t tire of hearing her endless recounts of the things she’s learned at school, of the newest science experiment someone managed to set on fire. In the bleakness of his days, his kids are the light he comes home to.

In the beginning, however,things weren’t as open between them. They’d be lucky if they could manage more than a handful of words out of her at a time. When walking around the expansive mansion she could be quieter than the night, mostly accidentally sneaking up on practically everyone in the house, a feat previously held by Martin if only by a few short months. Being the biggest receiver of a surprise guest when turning around, Oswald had more than once suggested she carry a bell on her; his way of complementing her on her stealth. It would only be fitting he would be the one to finally get her to fully open up with an actual bell.

Their first year together was hard, harder when the holidays came up and she was faced with the realization of the loss of her parents and the change in her life being permanent. Trying to soften their spirits, Jim rounded the kids up at the break of dawn one random December morning to a re-enactment of a Christmas book they had recently taken an attachment to. Seeing Barbara’s sleepy eyes widen when it came time to board the train, and then later grow to a size that could rival planets at the sight of Santa’s sleigh surrounded by reindeer was enough to momentarily kill him with happiness.

She had always had an obsession with reindeer, and it never seemed unhealthy to them, not with it eventually turning into her own coping mechanism. She’d lingered around the sleigh to gaze at the deer, gentle curiosity drawing both her adoptive parents’ attention, but Jim hadn’t realized how much thought Oswald had put into the brief observation until they took their seats in the train for the ride back home. The wicked gleam in his eye and his reserved smile should’ve been cause for trouble, but the lightness in his touch when he briefly tapped Barbara’s elbow spoke volumes. As did the carefulness in the swift reveal of the sleigh-bell with its little ribbon bow in his pocket.

To the day Jim still has no idea how Oswald managed to pull it off, but nevertheless remains eternally grateful for the love his husband has for their kids.

 

From the mirror Jim also notices Martin work his jaw with agitation, his bruised nose twitching unconsciously. He throws out his hands quickly, the flashing movements almost too quick for Oswald to catch his frustration.

 _he said something mean to Barbara_  

Usually Oswald would have more self control when it came to schooling his expression. Usually.

He obviously fails when Martin turns away at the roll of his jaw, Barbara looking down to her feet as her arms hug her backpack a little tighter.

“What did he say?” He asks through pursed lips, trying not to let it get to him.

Martin’s eyebrows burrow as he rolls his leg in agitation, nervousness building up once again to the point of tapping his foot once more.  
  
Barbara’s arms fling out from their folded state, hands gripping into the seat as she finally caves in to tell them herself.  
  
”He called me a snowflake.”

Oswald quietly turns back into his seat and adjusts his gloves, face eerily stoic as he stares through the windshield.

”Jim, turn this car around.”  
  
Jim rolls his eyes. _this is why I don’t tell you shit._

The two share their wordless bicker in the front seats, heads shaking and hands flailing as they practically shout at each other through facial expressions.

With a huff Jim turns away from Oswald, eyes flicking to the rear view mirror and noticing his kids attitude shift from needing to kill someone to wanting to sleep the day away.  
  
”That’s not what’s bothering you two, though.” 

Barbara shuffles in her seat as Martin lets out a sigh through his nose, both of them wishing their father wasn’t so good at his job, and not for the first time either. The last thing either of them feel they need is an observant eye.

Jim stares hard into the mirror; Oswald couldn’t have turned around further in the passenger seat.

She has a hard time keeping eye contact with either one of them, opting to look down to her folded hands instead.”H-he tried to grab my, sleigh bell-”  
  
Jim unintentionally-but-still-totally-on-purpose slams a foot down on the breaks. It only helped that he was already at a stop sign when he did.

”He WHAT”?” “EXCUSE ME?” they both call out, talking over one another and leaning across their seats to hover over their children, their small eyes widening with the urgency to calm their dads down.

Everyone seems to talk over one another, Martin doing his part to shake his head and sweep his hands in silent panic while Oswald yanks his gloves off to better flutter his hands with. An impatient honk from behind them forces Jim to turn the corner on the street they’re on so he can pull into the snowbanked curb and properly join in Oswald’s hysterics. 

“Daddy it’s okay,” Barbara pleads over their voices. “Martin got him to stop.”

Their eyes move from Barbara to Martin, the question obvious before either one of them can ask.  
  
With a set jaw, Martin takes to his notebook to scribble into the paper, working with such vigor Jim’s afraid the kid might end up burrowing his pencil through the entire booklet. He turns back around to stare out the frosted windshield as both he and Oswald wait for an answer. 

Before Jim can turn back around he hears the tear of paper and the flap of it being shaken next to his ear in between the seats. Grabbing it carefully, he brings it up to reading distance as he at first reads out loud “I told him he could use his hand to go-” then promptly cuts himself off with an __uh__ , silently reading the rest of the paragraph with a quirk of his mouth and a dry cough.  
  
”That’s, ah, wow-” he raises his eyebrows and folds the note away, “- that’s some pretty colorful vocabulary you got there. Wonder where __THAT__  impression came from.” He side-eyes Oswald with enough scorn his husband doesn’t have to look over to feel the burning glare Jim’s throwing his way. The only sign of acknowledging the chastising remark is the clearing of his throat and an awkward shuffle to readjust himself in his seat, raising his scarf and turning his head further away from Jim’s glower lest he suffer actual holes being bored into the side of his skull.  
  
Shuffling in his own seat, Jim spares a quick glance to his kids through the mirror with another small smile. “Long sentence. Must’ve taken you a while to write it out for them.”  
  
”Oh, he didn’t write it,” Barbara calls out with unintended nonchalance, Jim’s eyes widening in the reflection and Oswald snorting into a giggling fit. He turns in his seat to look at Martin with beaming pride, Martin responding with a cheek cutting grin and a brief wince.

Oswald’s smile falters into a pouted huff when he looks back to Jim giving him his well known “don’t encourage him” grimace.

“What?” he sniffs, picking at debris on his coat sleeve with a shrug of his shoulder. “He did good. Even if his methods were a little, unconventional for your taste.”

Jim laughs. He can’t help but laugh, with the absurdity of the situation that is his family. He adjusts himself in the seat, checking his mirrors before pulling away from the curb to continue their drive back home.

Jim glances over to see Oswald still pretending there’s something on his coat, if only to avoid Jim’s gaze thinking he’s still mad at him. With a loving grin, Jim reaches over to stop his anxious picking, rough calloused hands gently folding over cold nimble fingers. He’s fully aware of what they say about cold hands, and he brings his husbands up to warmly kiss the band he slipped on his ring finger so many years ago. Time, however, has not hindered the look of worship Oswald still gives him in moments like these. 

In the back seat the kids share their own forms of affection with a bump of their shoulders, Martin holding out his hand with a smile and Barbara gladly placing her smaller one in her big brother’s care.

**Author's Note:**

> *Side note, as i typed "Someone once told me" up there someone downstairs apparently had Shrek on and Allstar started playing.  
> What is even my life.
> 
> So, being this is my first dip into writing for the fandom I'm surprised I got as far as I did. I've had other ideas for my first, but when I saw the bingo card for the Gobblepot event I couldn't stop this nagging at the back of my head at the idea of one of Oswald Cobblepot's children being called a snowflake and him finding out about it. !k words later and I noticed it got taken up, so I somehow ended up incorporating sleigh bells into the work. Then I saw that one was soon taken up as well and I was too committed to stop.
> 
> I did, eventually, because things happen and life sucks but after waking up from an "I hate the world" nap and seeing the card being re-blogged on Tumblr one last time I thought I'd jump in headfirst to make sure I met the deadline.
> 
> I really hope to properly join in someday, so here's to ~~stalking~~ hoping.  
> -P.C. (Le Noir)


End file.
